Dark Elf's Incredibly Screwed Up PageOBishounen
by Wings-of-Twilight
Summary: DE still has writer's block. Fangirls are after the bishounen! Run, bishies! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! And whoinell's this new guy?!
1. The madness begins! BWAHAHAHA!

Author's Notes: I don't own any of these characters except for Dark Elf. And this is because DE is me! And since I am (as far as I know) © me, you may not snitch me. Jarlaxle and Artemis Entreri are copyright R.A. Salvatore. All other characters are copyright their respective owners. So no suing the drow!

It was late afternoon on a Tuesday, and Dark Elf was stricken with a horrible case of writer's block. She hung upside-down off her chair; slowly rotating it back and forth in front of her computer as she considered whether or not beating her head against the wall would help. Her G-Gundam fanfic was on hold, and she couldn't think of any decent plot. It was time for some professional help.

"Muse!" Her screech could have bent metal, as she seemed to be attempting to imitate GIR. "Need some help here!" 

A dark shadow swept across a patch of sun on the floor, and the room went slightly colder as her muse' bent over the contorted drow. She squinted up at him, overlooking the fact that his face was about an inch or two from hers to begin with.

"What is it NOW?" Artemis Entreri sighed, forcefully turning Dark Elf upright in her chair. "This had better be good." Ever since she'd bound him to a life of servitude as her muse, the assassin had been summoned about every five minutes. He'd be annoyed if she wasn't so cute. _Too_ cute, as a matter of fact. He wondered absently what her real self was like- it must be some hideous, vile evil from beyond the Abyss.

"I can't think of _anything_ to write!" the drow wailed, pulling her knees up to her chest and peering up at him with those (horrifying) sparkly Anime eyes of hers. It was worse than puppy-dog eyes' in his personal opinion.

A loud thump from inside her closet distracted Entreri from his expected questioning of just why she thought he could help her with her writing problems. He glanced over at it in irritation.

"Aren't you going to let Enishi out of there?" he asked. "It's really very hot today. Do you want him to suffocate?" Not, he thought to himself, like he really cared.

"Ooooh-kaaaay," Dark Elf sighed, meandering over to the closet. She opened the door, allowing the white-haired young man exit. He slumped forwards onto the floor- unconscious from heat exposure. "Oh pooh. This always happens to me-aaagh!" She let out a shrill scream and covered her head with her arms, just in time to be partially buried under the flood of bishounen she had packed in there. "Ororoooo" Her eyes had gone swirly, one black-skinned arm poking out from about fifteen different people. 

"I can't believe I have to put up with this," Entreri groaned, and set about pulling them off her. 

"Get your hands off me!" Maximillion Pegasus exclaimed in indignation, as he was simply picked up by one arm and placed to one side. 

"Shut up," Entreri growled. He didn't understand _what_ DE saw in these Anime men. 

"Well, I never!" Pegasus huffed under his breath. 

Next to be hauled out of the pile included such people as Valmont, Haldir, Ashram, Shinomori Aoshi, an assortment of ninja, Kagato and most of the males in G-Gundam. Including two rather unlikely people that MOST would find anything BUT bishounen.

"What the hell?" Entreri stared at her, dumbfounded. Just what _is_ it with you and villains?" He jabbed a finger at Michelo Chariot and Jean-Paul Mirabeu. DE blushed crimson and tried to sink into the floor, mumbling something inaudible. She didn't really seem to notice that her room was nearly filled to the brim with people.

"Does this happen often?" Jarlaxle inquired from his position on her bed.

"Too often," Entreri sighed. I wouldn't have agreed to be her muse if she hadn't granted me Author's Impunity. No matter what books R.A. Salvatore writes, I'll survive them."

"But you already had that," Jarlaxle protested.

"I like to have ensurance," the human growled in an undertone. Turning to DE, he took a deep breath, then said, "All right, what are you trying to write THIS time?"

"Well," Dark Elf said, sitting up straighter, "It goes like this"

Jarlaxle listened attentively (and Entreri pretended to be listening attentively) as she spelled out basically what she wanted in the next installment of her G-Gundam story. "What is a Gundam?" he asked at length, receiving dumbfounded looks from the male G-Gundam characters.

"Why do you need MY help for this?" Entreri grumbled. "Why don't you ask _them_?" He nodded to the aforesaid characters, who were sitting in random places around the room. "And when are you going to shut up?" He eyeballed Michelo, who looked as if he was about to go for Domon's throat shortly. "I still don't understand how you find him attractive." The Mafia boss just gave him a razor-sharp, rather suggestive grin. 

"Don't ask," DE replied shortly. "And quit complaining! I promised I'd write a Forgotten Realms story about you, so just be patient. Or is that too hard for you, MISTER assassin?" He shut up, muttering something about 'drow yathalars' under his breath. For the fisrst time, when she looked up, Dark Elf noticed all the people in the room. "YAAAH! Who let the bishounen out of the closet?!"

Artemis gave her a strange look. "_You_ did," he replied.

"Oh" She blinked. "Damn." Rather hastily, she lept to her feet. 'Come, muse!" she cried, jabbing a finger at the ceiling. "First, a game of FF7! Second, a slice of cheesecake! Third, we write!" With this, she marched downstairs (followed by a trail of Anime-and-non-Anime men, all of whom had heard the word 'cheesecake'). "Today, Sephiroth! Tomorrow the WORLD!"

WILL Dark Elf complete her story and beat FF7? WILL the Anime characters ever get back into the closet? IS our hero completely insane? You'll have to find out next time, won't you? *Growl* Now go away!


	2. Attack of the fangirls! NOOOOO!

Author's Notes: The only person I own is DE! DE is me! Got it? Oh, and thank you for reminding me about Cowboy Bebop, Yu-Yu-Hakusho, and Inu-Yasha. I completely forgot. On with the madness! And thankee, Sun Elf, for helping me with this story. 

"And remind me again how long she's been glued to the screen?" Jarlaxle leaned over Dark Elf's shoulder, watching as she frantically worked the controls, letting out a snarl of anger as Cloud Strife was killed for the umpteenth time. Artemis Entreri looked up, dark circles under his eyes.

"Three days," he groaned. "Three solid _days_." 

"All right, that's torn it!" the female drow snapped, tossing the controls at aforesaid screen. "I give UP!" She stood up (her muscles somehow having managed to avoid atrophying during her stay fused to the PlayStation 2) and stretched, then glanced over her shoulder at well, everyone else. She laughed under her breath- Yusuke was snoring from his position on the couch. Typical.

Clinking sounds alerted her to a certain situation in the kitchen, and she let out a bloodcurdling scream as she went to investigate.

Cue music from _Psycho_ here.

"What?" Spike looked up from where he had his head in the fridge. "A guy's gotta eat, doesn't he?"

"Eat gone everything" DE's fingers twitched- one could almost hear her brain go snap'. She filled her lungs with air, and let out a piercing yell of "SESSHOMARU-SAMA!"

"Oh dear," Pegasus said, having jerked awake at the scream.

"Now you've done it," Entreri added in an undertone.

"Run for cover!" Most of the bishounen found convenient other things to do. Some of them simply hid.

"What?" Sesshomaru stuck his head in through the door, rubbing his ears and wincing. "I could hear you screaming all the way out on the porch."

Dark Elf pointed at Spike. "He ate all my sushi!" she hissed, her tone boding ill for anyone that dared touch her collection of raw-fish treats.

"We've got bigger problems right now," Miroku called down from the loft, where he was rummaging through DE's sister's (pilfered) collection of _Seventeen _magazines. 

"WHAT could POSSIBLY be more important than my sushi?" Dark Elf demanded indignantly. Miroku's eyes narrowed slightly, and he whispered the one word that every bishounen dreads to hear.

"Fangirls." 

The ensuing chaos owing to panicking bishies nearly brought the house down on top of them. Entreri, cursing himself for a sift touch, grabbed DE around the waist and sought higher ground, which was achieved by perching on the ceiling fan. Only Spike and a few others, whose nature ran against panic, remained calm.

"OK, **EVERYONE**!" The bellow shook dust from the rafters. "Back into the closet NOW! Move, move, _move_!" The newcomer was a tall, dark-haired elf, the complete polar opposite of his female, fellow sidhe. And he had a rather cool trenchcoat.

"Sun Elf?" Dark Elf stared down at him. "You're crushing my ribs, you know," she added, looking up at Entreri, who tried to ignore her.

"You looked like you needed some help," he winked. "You!" He grabbed Legato by the shoulder, turned him around, and gave him a little push. "See if you can't help me get everybody back in the closet. You!" He pointed at Hiei and Kurama. "Pry Legolas off the wall." He handed the short, dark-haired demon a crowbar. "Try using this."

He turned his attention back to DE, who was being slowly lowered back down to the floor via a long rope (the epitome of cliché, but what the hell). "What the frell is he doing here?" he asked, pointing at Entreri.

"He's my muse," the drow replied with an impish grin. Sun Elf simply looked at the ceiling and conveniently failed to mention that his own muse was Trinity. 

All the bishounen safely packed into the closet, Sun Elf placed a metal bar across the door and picked up the Fangirl Hose. It was something like a firefighter's hose, but far more useful. "DE?" The drow snapped down her visor, having gotten into her SWAT team uniform, complete with shield and shock prod. "Open the door."

The pounding and excited squeals had long since been audible, and indeed, the wood had begun to splinter. The line went on for as far as the eye could see, made up of nearly every squealing, innocent (or not so innocent) Mary-Sue fangirl within a ten-mile radius. Ranged behind DE and SE were bishoujo, all outfitted with special Anti-Fangirl contamination gear.

"Ready, girls?" Sun Elf asked, looking over his shoulder. He only got growls and death-glares from the Anime-and-non-Anime women.

"Open the door already!" Nastasha commanded, pointing her riding crop at the elf's slightly-overlarge nose.

"Ready," DE cried, turning the handle. "One... Two THREE!" She yanked open the door and Faye turned the faucet handle, letting in the special Anti-Fan water. 

"Shoot," she commented, "I broke a nail." She reached for her guns, gritting her teeth. "They _will_ pay for this"

The stream of fangirls burst forth, slamming through the doorway with excited squeals of glee. 

Only to be met with a torrent of water, and tazers.

But fangirls are not easily deterred, nor discouraged

WILL the Fangirls be driven off? WHO exactly is the mysterious Sun Elf? WHAT will happen to all those poor bishounen locked in the closet? And HAVE I left the oven on? Tune in next time for all the answers and more! *Fire alarm goes off*


End file.
